Slow time in the palm of Georgia

I use to show my face

Do you mean nothing?

We ate death slippery

The house was a swallowing coffin

Some get named Charleston

& sleep in Pittsburgh

I march through childhood doors

A hole in a giant leaf

I have trouble naming myself

In a language I can find

What is a stranger?

We are messages

Salt in the corners of eyes

A cup of rainbow tea

How do we fill ourselves?

Sell acts for the habit

I use to show nothing

But what troubles my mind